


Your Warmth

by Miss_Dyana



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Cunnilingus, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Porn with Feelings, Post-Season/Series 03, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:33:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23131747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Dyana/pseuds/Miss_Dyana
Summary: “I didn’t ask you to travel with me just because I didn’t want to be alone, or because there was no one else available. I asked you because I wanted to travel with you.”He let the words sink in, then reached out to touch her face, and she pressed her cheek against his hand, immediately covering it with her own. Even right now, when he should have gotten used to it, he couldn’t help but think about how soft her skin was against his own, so rough to the touch, or how small her hands were above his, damaged and scarred by years of fighting, and yet how completely, how unabashedly she gave herself to him.“I’m sorry you got hurt.”“I’m f—”“No, Sypha. You’re not.”
Relationships: Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades
Comments: 10
Kudos: 146





	Your Warmth

“Trevor?”

The hunter opened his eyes immediately at Sypha’s call. He wasn’t asleep, he was barely even drowsing, and her tone instantly brought him back to reality. Not that he could ever escape it very long, anyway, but there was something in it that made him uncomfortable. Her voice had cracked when she’d said his name, and though it sounded very much like  _ her _ , accent, intonation and uncharacteristic softness, in that part of the world, it felt… wrong.

Seeing the familiar cloth above them reminded him, after those few days they had spend under an actual roof, that they had left that creepy town behind. For good, hopefully. He didn’t want to think back on it and over the years, he had developed an ability to forget things. Or, at least, to drown them in alcohol so that, when you close your eyes, they don’t manage to resurface in your nightmares.

Because of course, he didn’t dream anymore.

“Yeah?”

“I’m cold.”

Only she wasn’t that cold. Her legs were entangled with his, her feet pressed against his calf, and he knew, she wasn’t cold. She’d been through way worse without saying a word about it. He reached out in obscurity to start playing with a lock of her hair.

“Are you?”

There was a moment of silence, that silence that was so unusual, almost disturbing, when it came from Sypha. He pushed himself on his elbow to look at her. Her back was turned on him and she was laying on her side, staring at the white cloth.

“…I feel cold,” she finally replied.

Yeah. He knew the feeling. If it was just him, and if they were in a town, he’d probably get hammered, half-hoping he wouldn’t wake up the next morning. Unfortunately for him, he seemed to be relatively tough to kill.

“We can start searching for your family tomorrow,” he promised. “They can’t be that hard to find.”

Sypha rolled onto her back and looked at him with her big, thoughtful eyes, and as always, it was like Trevor had suddenly been completely disarmed.

“Are you trying to get rid of me, Belmont?” she asked, but she sounded sad, even in her playfulness.

The question surprised him. He’d thought… He’d assumed… He’d told himself that she wanted out. That they’d had a nice run, the two of them, an enchanted parenthesis in his usually grim and dark life, one that he would probably cherish for years, but that it was time for it to come to an end. Time for Sypha to go back to  _ her _ life, to what was better for her. He didn’t blame her. He didn’t want his life either.

”Don’t you want to—”

“I want to be with you, Trevor.”

She sat up, and shivered a little when the blanket fell from her shoulders.

“I didn’t ask you to travel with me just because I didn’t want to be alone, or because there was no one else available. I asked  _ you _ because I wanted to travel with  _ you _ .”

He let the words sink in, then reached out to touch her face, and she pressed her cheek against his hand, immediately covering it with her own. Even right now, when he should have gotten used to it, he couldn’t help but think about how soft her skin was against his own, so rough to the touch, or how small her hands were above his, damaged and scarred by years of fighting, and yet how completely, how unabashedly she gave herself to him.

“I’m sorry you got hurt.”

“I’m f—”

“No, Sypha. You’re not.” His voice was deep, even deeper than usual, and the words seemed to grit against his teeth when he said them. “And I’m sorry I didn’t manage to protect you from that.”

_ From my life _ .

Slowly, she moved her arms around his neck.

“You can’t protect me from everything, Trevor.”

_ I sure can fucking try _ .

“You don’t  _ need _ to protect me from everything. Us Speakers— we see unpleasant things all the time as well. And if we don’t, we know of them. We’ve heard the stories. It’s not like I don’t know what life can be like, it’s just… I’m cold, tonight.”

Without a word, Trevor reached out for her and pulled her onto his lap. She let out a small, almost relieved sigh as she pressed her forehead against his. He was warm. He was always warm. Now more than ever, she wondered how that could be. She wondered if she would manage to keep her warmth, if events such as those that had taken place today were to happen again. And yet, despite it all, despite the front he tried to present, Trevor was still so  _ warm _ . So full of emotions. So… alive.

One of his hands travelled down her arms to grip her elbows, while the other moved to the back of her head, where he entangled his fingers in her hair. Then, his lips crashed against hers, and Sypha whimpered.

The kiss was different from anything they had done before. They had kissed, touched, loved each other, but she had been the instigator more often than not, and Trevor had always treated her  _ carefully _ . He’d been soft, gentle. He had also been holding back. She hadn’t minded any of that, though she was well aware of it, and she had just expected him to come out of his shell as time went by.

Now, his mouth was pressed against hers in an almost biting kiss, feverish, desperate, and she kissed him back with the same energy. She  _ needed _ him, needed to feel his warmth, needed to be reminded that they were both alive and how beautiful life could be when she was by his side.

His tongue explored her mouth and she followed his rhythm, even if everything about him was so overwhelming to her at the moment. His taste, his smell, his touch… She couldn’t take it all and yet she couldn’t get enough of it. He pulled away, briefly, and she gasped for air, before he kissed her again, this time while trying to get rid of his garments.

She worked on undoing his dress while he practically threw his shirt over his head, but the second it was off he was kissing her again, this time on her neck, while his hands gripped her hips, pressing her against him, and Sypha arched her back while his kisses moved down to her collarbone. She hooked her legs behind him, trying to push herself as close to him as she possibly could with the clothes they were both still wearing, rolling her hips against his, grabbing at his shoulder, fisting her hand in his hair.

Another time, she would have wondered whether or not he would leave marks. He hadn’t, before, — in fact, that was more  _ her _ thing — but he had also never kissed her like that. Kissed her like he wanted to forget everything, to make  _ her _ forget everything.

She never wanted him to stop.

He pushed her back down onto the blanket they used to cover the wood of the wagon, placing himself above her, and his hands left a burning trail wherever they moved. He lifted her dress, exposing her thighs, and squeezed one while still kissing her neck.

“Sypha…”

“Trevor,” she moaned as a reply, and she heard him grunt at her noise, right before the pressure of his hands increased and his kisses became hungrier.

She knew what she did to him. She had experienced it before. She had never, however, seen him give into it. Until now.

He pulled down her undergarments, forcing himself to slow down so he wouldn’t tear them into pieces. Then, he knelt down between her legs, hands still on her thighs, holding them apart. He met her eyes one more time, and she could swear that simply seeing the intensity, the desire, the  _ need _ burning in his eyes could have sent her over the edge.

She cried out when he dove in. His mouth and tongue immediately went for her clit while he slid one finger inside her. She was wet already, but no matter how badly he wanted her right now, he wanted things to be as easy and as comfortable as possible for her. So he slowly spread her open while his mouth kept working on her, and Sypha’s moans filled the night. She wasn’t particularly vocal, usually,  _ he _ was, but he supposed the roles were reversed for tonight.

Tonight, she needed him more than he needed her.

His tongue moved skillfully, his teeth sometimes grazing against the sensitive skin in ways that drove her simply  _ insane _ , and she laid there, eyes closed, back arched, focused on all the sensations he was giving her and unable to do much but hold onto the sheets under her with one hand, and onto him with the other. She should have tried to keep her voice down, but it seemed that she just couldn’t right now.

“ _ Trevor! _ ” she called out again, pleading, begging perhaps, for him, for more.

He pushed himself up with a grunt, and she whined at the loss of contact. She had been  _ so _ close…

“Well, shit,” he mumbled, and she heard him work on unbuckling his pants.

She sat up to help him, leaving kisses on his hips during the process, and he let out a grunt that almost resembled a growl. He caressed her face with calloused hands, tracing her cheekbones, and as soon as he pants had fallen down, he pressed against her shoulder, pushing her onto her back again. She didn’t resist.

He settled between her legs, and, after she’d given him one last encouraging nod, pushed himself inside her. She whimpered, pushing her hips up to meet him, and he moaned softly.

“You good?”

“Yes,  _ yes _ , just—”

He started moving before she finished her sentence. He held onto her hips, fingers digging in the skin with more strength than she was used to, and started rocking into her, each movement forcing new moans out of her. He watched her the entire time. Watched the way her face contorted in pleasure, her mouth, wide open as she gasped for air and cried out for him at the same time. The idea that  _ he _ was responsible for her expressions, for her  _ pleasure  _ could have had him coming inside her right this second.

He gritted his teeth and leaned forward, resting his hand next to her head as he tried to focus on not letting this end prematurely. Then he felt her fingers on his cheek as she reached out to him.

“Please,” she whispered, and let himself go into her arms.

She sighed in his embrace. She felt warm again, and she felt  _ safe _ . She didn’t need to be protected, most of the time, but for tonight? For tonight, she’d allow it. She wrapped her legs around him, desperate for his contact. She wished she had taken off her dress completely, so she could feel his chest against her skin. Oh well, next time…

“Trevor,” she moaned.

“Shit, Sypha,” he groaned with his head in the crook of her neck, if you keep saying my name, I’m not going to last very long.”

He didn’t know why  _ this _ was what was getting to him most. She felt delicious, warm and tight and wet around him, she looked wonderful, but her  _ voice,  _ her saying his name like  _ that _ , as if he was the most precious person in her world, that got to him like nothing else did.

“Trevor,” she called again, and another time he would have assumed she was just provoking her, but right now, it was possible she was simply too far gone, “Trevor, Trevor, Trev—  _ Ah _ !”

Yeah. He was  _ never _ going to last. He dipped one of his hands between them to tease her clit, and Sypha cried out, calling his name again, even more desperately, and he kissed her roughly. He was so fucking  _ gone _ for that girl. She tasted herself in his mouth, and abandoned herself completely in his arms, unable to think about anything but  _ him _ , his hands, his body, his heat, the way he touched her, the way he  _ consumed _ her.

The orgasm exploded between her legs and her head fell back as she rode the wave. The pleasure spread through her, tingling in her entire body, and Trevor didn’t lose one second of it. He finished soon after her, calling her name as well, the sound muffled in her shoulder, but by no means less intense than her own cries a few minutes earlier.

He let himself fall on his side next to her, panting, and watched her carefully. A smile was dancing on her lips, as was often the case after they’d had sex and, sure, she wasn’t back to her normal self yet, but that was already something.

“That was…”

“Yeah,” he finished with a grin. “That was something all right.”

She pushed herself to kiss him. This time, it was very slow and soft, very gentle. When she pulled away, she looked into his eyes, and the words simply fell from her lips, escaping her without her even thinking about it, because it was so  _ natural _ and  _ true _ and she just  _ meant _ it.

“I love you.”

Trevor froze, his lips parting. He didn’t know what to say, what to answer. Did he love her? Fuck yes. More than he’d ever loved anything or anyone in his life. He had never expected this to happen to him, the type of love they write stories about, and much less for him to just fall head over heels in love so quickly.

He wanted to tell her. Desperately. And yet…

Sypha smiled.

“I love you, Trevor Belmont.”

She kissed him again, and he closed his eyes.

“Sypha…”

“It’s okay. I know.”

He wrapped an arm around her, bringing her against him, almost crushing her against his chest.

“I—”

“It’s okay, Trevor.”

And it was. She didn’t need him to tell her anything. Not after he’d just  _ shown _ her. She was the Speaker here, she used her words, and she knew she’d tell him over and over and over again. It would probably take him much longer to be able to say it, and that was fine.

“I love you,” she said one more time, and Trevor felt like his heart was going to explode.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. Sorry he couldn’t say it back.

“It’s fine, Trevor. I can say it enough times for the two of us. I’ll say it until you get tired of hearing it.”

He grinned.

“Then you can keep saying it, because that’ll never happened.”

She chuckled against his skin, and now, she could breathe again. She fell asleep easily this time. She knew she could. She knew the horrors of the world would always be there, and she knew she wouldn’t forget, but she also knew she would be fine in the end.

Trevor was watching over her.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you've enjoyed this one-shot, any feedback is welcome! I'd love to know what you thought of this one!


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